


I Volunteer

by IdSellMySoulForRecentlyUpdatedFanfiction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, BAMF Charlie Bradbury, BAMF Kevin, BAMF Meg, BAMF Ruby, Balthazar Lives, Bartender Jo, Bobby Singer Lives, Caring Bobby, Castiel Does Not Understand, Charlie Lives, Crowley Being Crowley, Dean-Centric, Evil Ruby, F/F, F/M, Gabriel Being Gabriel, Gabriel Lives, Ghost Kevin, Jessica Moore Lives, Jessica Moore and Sam Winchester Get Married, Jessica Moore and Sam Winchester are Cute, Lucifer Possessing Nick, Lucifer and Michael are Twins, M/M, Meg Being an Asshole, Michael Being A Dick, Minor Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Ellen, Rating May Change, Sassy Balthazar, Sassy Crowley, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdSellMySoulForRecentlyUpdatedFanfiction/pseuds/IdSellMySoulForRecentlyUpdatedFanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Supernatural Hunger Games AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

        Dean had always been the one to take care of the family, especially after his dad had gone insane after his mom died. Was killed, really, but who would believe him? Well, everybody in District Twenty, the human district, does. But the Angels in the capital? Nobody believes a word the humans say, and Dean was only a few months old the last time an angel actually saw him. Every other time he’d been passed by during reaping. Which is happening again today.

        Sammy is being entered for the second and his name will be entered only four times because Dean refuses to let him get more strips in the bowl. Even just one more ups his brothers chances of getting into the games, and Dean can’t risk that. He can’t risk knowing what can happen if Sam’s name is pulled. Especially to his dad. It’s bad enough that John has a strong sense of bloodlust aimed at anything and everything not human, Dean can’t handle him feeling that way to the angel too. Not with what they do to disobedient lower classes. Humans are the  _lowest_  class, too, so his father wouldn’t be given the mercy of death.

        Dean checks all his traps again before leaving the fenced out forest, grabbing the meat and throwing it against parts of the fence briefly and cooking them. He keeps about half raw, and then he tosses the silencer he carries into his bag. He then climbs up his tree, grabs the branch from the one across the way, and gets over the fence easily. The angels think that humans are stupid enough not to think about swinging from tree to tree to get over the fence. Their thoughts on the humans are honestly offensive. Dean lands on his feet easily and heads over to Harvelle’s Roadhouse, the trading area taking the shape of a bar. The angels, once again, think the humans are stupid so they never think of looking past the bar when they visit for about five seconds.

        He nods at Jo and Ellen, who are managing the actual bar, before heading to the back, his firearm obvious as it’s tucked in the back of his pants. “Dean.” Bobby greets as Dean appears, his machinery shop buzzing faintly behind him.

        “Bobby.” Dean greets with a small smile, hiking his bag up a bit higher.

        “How are you, Boy?” Bobby asks as Dean approaches, his green eyes flickering over the things behind his better father figure.

        “Can’t exactly say I’m good, Bobby.” Dean says, scowling as his voice cracks a bit. Bobby’s eyes soften a bit as he watches his godson.

        “How many times is your name going in?” Bobby grunts, voice soft.

        “Twenty three times after I get the rations.”

        “How many times is-”

        “Four.” Dean says before Bobby has to finish asking. Bobby glares at his godson.

        “Are you putting your name in twice again?” Bobby asks, voice tight as he tries not to yell at the older Winchester son. Dean nods before handing Bobby some of his cooked meat. Two hunks as usual. The bag that Bobby gives Dean is much heavier than usual, and Dean raises a brow at Bobby. “I’ve got a bad feeling, Boy. Just take it.” Bobby says gruffle, crossing his arms to show he isn’t changing his mind.

        “Thank you, Bobby.” Dean says, trying his hardest not to get choked up. Because he feels it too. And when you come from a huge hunter family you learn not to ignore your instincts. Dean does his normal rounds, getting a bit more from everybody. They must have seen Bobby. Nobody ignores Bobby’s instincts. Dean heads to the place where you can get a cart of food for another name slip in the bowl.

        The older Winchester brother ignores how heavy his bag is, used to lifting and slamming down heavier things. Even in a world where monsters, demons, humans, and angels are separate, John taught his first two sons how to hunt. Adam, the baby of the family, is only seven. However, that’s the age John started teaching Sam and Dean, and the two full brothers are sure that John is too dead set on revenge to teach Adam the ways of hunting. Dean drops off his wagon vegetable and fruit seeds in the back for Adam. At only seven years old, he takes after his mom a lot and is good with gardening. Dean drops off the cloths and string for his stepmom, and then he drops off the rest of the things in the kitchen.

        When Dean goes upstairs Sam is sitting on his bed, arms crossed as he stares at the floor. Dean pauses in the doorway before going into his and Sam’s room, quietly closing the door. “You okay, Sammy?” Dean asks, his voice quiet so he doesn’t startle his brother. Sam looks up, teary eyed and shaking.

        “I’m scared.” Sam whispers, kaleidoscope eyes watery as he stares at his older brother. Dean sighs in sympathy before approaching his brother, helping him adjust his shirt. He sees the back of the black shirt is untucked, and he tucks it in quickly.

        “It’ll be okay, Sam. You need to make sure this is constantly tucked in, alright? You don’t wanna look stupid in front of  _Jess_ , do you?” Dean teases Sam about his crush on the blonde with curly blonde hair. Sam glares at him, cheeks becoming pink before he looks away. Dean smiles, fixing Sam’s tie before turning serious. “You won’t be picked, Sam. Your name is only in there four times.”

        “But what if I am?”

        “You won’t be.”

        “But what if I am?”

        “You  _won’t b-_ ”

        “ _Dean_.” Sam snaps, looking just as serious as his older brother. Dean can hear Kate, his stepmom, pause outside the room. “What if I  _am_?” Dean is silent for a few moments, staring at his brother with narrowed green eyes.

        “You aren’t going to the games, Sam. I won’t let them take you, and I won’t let you go.” There’s a few tense moments of silence before Kate knocks softly on the door.

        “Can I come in?” She asks, and after a few moments Dean looks away from Sam and to the door.

        “Yeah. Go ahead.” Dean says, standing up and crossing his arms. Kate walks in a bit hesitantly. She brushes a few blonde strands out of her dark eyes, and her face softens as she looks at her stepchildren.

        “I want you to wear this, please.” The blonde woman says, handing Dean the leather jacket Kate has been making for months. Dean stares at the jacket a few moments before nodding and slowly taking the jacket.

        “Thank you, Kate.” Dean says genuinely. Kate smiles softly and nods, turning to leave. She pauses in the doorway. “Get ready, we’re leaving in a few minutes, and I don’t think your dad would… Appreciate it,” Kate winces, “if we’re late. Please hurry.” Kate leaves the room after that, letting Dean change into a white collared shirt, his black leather jacket that Kate made, and a pair of fresh jeans. He slips into his boots quickly before leaving, Sam trailing behind him a bit. The two hesitate at the door before taking a deep breath and leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

    Sam and Dean are taken away from Adam, John, and Kate as they’re old enough to be in the games. Sam is then taken away from Dean by an angel peacekeeper and brought closer to the front because he’s younger. Dean stands at the back of the crowd. He’s twenty and Sam is only twelve, so there’s a large distance between him and his little brother. Dean crosses his arms as Castiel walks onto the stage, heading towards the bowls in the front. The angel obviously dislikes the games, but he’s always the one to start them. It’s a little bit twisted in Dean’s opinion, but it doesn’t surprise him.

    “Hello. We’ll be starting, as everybody is here.” Castiel says monotonously. As Castiel reluctantly drones on about why the games happen and how angels are above any other species and race, Dean tunes out. “And now for pulling the names.” Dean tunes back in right away. “We’ll start with the males, as usual.” Castiel strolls over to the bowl, digging deep into the glass sphere. He pulls out a piece of paper, and Dean’s stomach drops before the angel even reads the name on it. Something bad is about to happen. Something really bad.

    “What is it?” The man next to Dean asks, seeing him suddenly pale. Dean is about to tell him he doesn’t know, but Castiel reads the paper first.

    “Sam Winchester.” Castiel reads, and Dean stiffins. Immediately all eyes are on either Sam or Dean. The younger Winchester brother hesitantly walks forwards. What snaps Dean out of his shocked daze is Sam retucking the back of his shirt. The older Winchester brother surges forwards, shoving a human peacekeeper so hard the man flies backwards quite a few feet before hitting the ground. Dean rushes for his little brother, but his arms are grabbed by two angel peacekeepers. Dean isn’t sure where he finds the strength, but he flips one of the peacekeepers over his shoulder.

    “I volunteer!” Dean shouts, the words silencing any and all conversations happening in the clearing. Sam freezes where he is, unable to even turn as his brother’s words echo in his mind. He should’ve known Dean would volunteer if-  _when_  he was called.  _You aren’t going to the games, Sam. I won’t let them take you, and I won’t let you go._

    “This is certainly… Surprising.” Castiel says and Dean rips his arm out of the loose hold the other peacekeeper, heading towards his brother. He grabs Sam’s shoulder and turns him around.

    “You need to help Kate and Adam. You know what’s going to happen to dad. You can’t let him hurt any of you, do you understand me?” Sam doesn’t react to Dean’s words. “ _Sam._  Do you  _understand me_?” Dean snaps, knowing it’ll get a reaction from Sam.

    “Yessir.” Sam mumbles. Dean squeezes his brother’s shoulder before he clenches his jaw and heads up onto the stage.

    “There’s probably a, uh, series of steps I have to go through after that…” Castiel sounds a bit confused.

    “Does it matter?” Dean asks, voice sharp.

    “No. It probably doesn’t. What’s your name?” Castiel asks.

“Dean Winchester.”

“His brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Females, then.” The angel walks over to the other clear bowl and pulls out the first slip he touches. “Charlie Bradbury.” Oh God. Anybody but her. Not Charlie, she’s basically Dean’s  _sister_. Dean clenches his jaw until his teeth almost crack. Charlie stares at him, but Dean knows that if he makes eye contact with the ginger that he’ll break. “Happy Hunger Games, you two. And may the odds be ever in your favor.” Reassuring words are spoken solemnly, so no comfort can be found in them.

    Dean is led into a back room, and the first person to enter the room is Sam. His little brother flies into Dean’s arm, and Dean hopes there isn’t any cameras aimed at his face because he can’t help a few tears from streaming down his face. Dean buries his face in his brother’s shoulder. “How could you  _do_  that?” Sam eventually cries, grabbing onto the front of Dean’s shirt and burying his face into his older brother’s chest.

    “I couldn’t let you go, Sammy. Not you.” Dean whispers back, wrapping his arms around his brother. “You have to take care of the family now, Sammy. You know how John got when Mom died. If he disappears you’re gonna have to help Kate. She knows all the spots, and if you can’t get there then you’ll just have to survive on the garden. Bobby will probably help you, and everybody at Harvelle’s Roadhouse loves you. If it gets really bad you either go to Bobby or Ellen, understand? They’ll help you.” Dean manages not to slip up and tell anybody listening about him illegally hunting.

    “I-I under-understand Dean-ean.” Sam cries, and Dean rubs circles into his back and holds his brother until a peacekeeper comes in and starts to drag his brother back. “Dean! Dean you have to come back! You have to! Bring it back to me! Come back for me!” Sam shouts, voice breaking halfway through. A peacekeeper stops Dean from running after Sam, so the older Winchester brother just reaches for his little brother.

    “I’ll come back, Sam. I promise! I’ll be home soon!” The door closes heavily behind the peacekeepers, and Dean pulls a hand through his hair angrily, tugging at the strands as his eyes water up a bit. He bites the inside of his cheek and waits for his next visitor. John walks in, and Dean stiffens up, his eyes flashing angrily.

    “Dean.” He greets.

    “John.” Dean greets back, enjoying the small flash of emotion that goes through John’s eyes.

    “Bring this as your second thing from home. I understand that there’s only two things you can bring, and it isn’t a weapon, but it’ll help you.” John says, handing Dean his journal. Dean hesitates before taking it, putting it on the table next to the good luck amulet that Sam had wasted almost half the garden on for Dean a few years ago.

    “You can’t leave them.” Dean says instead of thanking his father, his green gaze becoming icy as he stares at John. “You can’t.”

    “I won’t.”

    “No, you don’t understand. You can  _not_  leave them. I don’t care how much this fucks you up, you are staying exactly where you are now, and if I find out that you hit anyone I swear to god the first thing I’ll do when I get back is strangle you until you aren’t breathing anymore. Do I make myself clear,  _sir_?” Dean asks bitterly, glaring at his father who’s looking like he wants to punch his first born.

    “I  _get_ it,  _Dean_.” John growls through clenched teeth. Dean glares at his Dad’s back until John is out of the room, Bobby coming in soon after.

    “How are you, Boy?” Bobby asks, eyes soft compared to John’s.

    “Not good, Bobby. Not good.” Dean replies. Bobby nods in a sympathetic way, and Dean is grateful that he finds no pity in his eyes. Bobby seems to read his thoughts.

    “I don’t pity you, Dean. John raised you in a way that I disagree with, but he taught you how to survive something like this. You’re coming back home, I can feel it in my gut.” Bobby says, and Dean smiles a bit at the man he really considers his dad. “What’re you bringing with you?”

    “John’s journal and the Samulet.” Dean says, scowling a bit at the name that everyone gives his amulet. It makes sense, though. Bobby nods.

    “You’ll be good, Dean. Be safe.”

    “Love you too, Bobby.” Only when Dean is under his covers on a fast moving train does he let himself cry.


	3. Chapter 3

    Dean wakes up to Charlie pounding on his door about getting his lazy ass out of bed using a taser.”I’m up! I’m up!” Dean grumbles into the pillow. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night. He’s too used to the ground or his lumpy mattress. The bed is too soft for him to adjust to in one night. In fact, Dean had woken up a few times last night and immediately thought he was falling because of how much the mattress sank to accommodate to his weight. Dean throws a pillow at the door when it opens, and Charlie throws it right back, hitting the larger man in the face with it as he slowly sits up.

    “We have an angel as our mentor.” Charlie eventually says and Dean nods, standing and slowly cracking basically all of his bones. Charlie rolls her eyes at Dean.

    “Because we never had a victor in District Twenty.” Dean rumbles back, yawning as he stretches. Charlie nods a bit.

    “Okay, but our angel  _hates_  me.” Charlie continues.

    “What’s his name?”

    “Uriel.”

    “Hates humans. Thinks we’re stupid as hell. Figures we can’t climb a tree, let alone win the Games.” Dean says, rubbing the sleep from his face roughly.

    “But we will this time. You will.” Charlie says.

    “I won’t kill you.” Dean says, voice tight and eyes sharp as he looks at the woman he considers his sister.

    “Then I’ll do it myself or I’ll kamikazi a base or something. Depends how many people will be left. You gotta get home, Dean. Sammy needs you more than anybody. Besides, you gotta return the stuff you’re borrowing.” Charlie says. Dean nods, thankful that angels figure humans so stupid they don’t stop to check books that can contain something too useful. Like the journal. Even if Dean hates John, he’s gotta admit that the man can keep a good record of everything. “You won’t have to worry about that.” Dean sighs heavily before nodding.

    “What’re we supposed to wear?” Dean asks, motioning to the oncoming city. Charlie shrugs, motioning to the outfit she left in yesterday. It’s clean now, though.

    “Just what you wore yesterday, I guess. The clothes are folded up over there, and the journal is on top of them. Doesn’t even look like they opened it.” Charlie says.

    “I’m starting to get a bit offended.” Dean comments before throwing on his clothes, not caring that Charlie is in the room. They’re both gay as hell and basically siblings, so what does it matter if she leaves or not? A buzz sounds and Charlie rolls her eyes. “What is that supposed to do?”

    “Feeding time, I guess. Or just to get us to come out into the main cart/carriage/thing. Pick one.” Charlie says before getting up and heading out of Dean’s room. Dean follows closely behind, but he stops in the hallway at the sight of so much food. It’s nearly impossible for Dean to calculate how many things he’d have to sell, collect, and hunt to get just a shitty version of what’s on the table in front of him. Rolls and ham and everything inbetween related to breakfast is sitting on the table, and Dean’s stomach grumbles a bit as he looks at it. Sure, in District Twenty the Winchester household isn’t starving, but it sure as hell isn’t this well off. Nowhere close to this.

    “Eat. We can’t have you appearing in the Games looking like you have an eating disorder.” Uriel orders, and Dean scowls at the angel, tempted not to eat just to spite him and everybody else in the capital. Charlie sees the expression and elbows him, so Dean sighs and heads towards the table, still scowling. The man eats as much as he can, and then he gets up to wash his dishes. He jumps in surprise when a blonde woman pops up in front of him, takes his plates, and disappears.

    “What the hell was that?” Dean asks, and Uriel raises a brow.

    “You can speak? Fluently?” The angel sounds geniunely surprised, and it pisses Dean off. The man turns to the dark skinned angel.

    “Of course I can talk  _fluently_. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Everybody in District Twenty can talk well unless the system fucks them and kicks them out onto the street!” Dean says, and Charlie grabs his wrist with two hands before he can try to punch the angel or do something similar. Uriel tilts his head in a way that shows amused curiosity.

    “How many languages can you speak?”

    “Why the fuck does tha-”

    “Three. He speaks three languages fluently and then four more decently.” Charlie answers, attempting to pull Dean down. The man doesn’t budge and Charlie scowls, tugging again. Dean glares at Uriel, at Charlie, and then back at Uriel.

    “Interesting. I don’t think we’ve had a multilingual human in the Games before.” Uriel comments. “What about you?” Charlie makes an almost unnoticeable face when Uriel’s attention is turned to her.

    “Two fluently, one rustily, and three decently. If you add in fictional languages Dean and I can also speak three more.” Charlie says, avoiding the elbow Dean sends her way. Uriel looks over the two.

    “Brains, brawn, and survival instincts, hopefully. You two may actually survive the first five minutes of the Games. Then again, probably not.” Uriel then turns and leaves. “We won’t see each other unless necessary. I’ll send down everything sponsors give you two. Hopefully you’ll get at least one.” A steak knife sinks into the door a millisecond after Uriel leaves, and Dean starts turning red in anger.

    “Dude! Calm down! We already knew angels are assholes, what did you expect? It could’ve been worse. He could’ve been one of the mentors that are drunk all the time.” Charlie says, grabbing Dean’s bicep. Dean grits his teeth and pulls a hand through his hair angrily, glaring at the floor. Cheers start getting louder and louder as the angels nearby realize the true entertainment is coming. The humans. The ones who always die the worst ways in the Games, whether it’s at the Cornucopia or in whatever surrounding area the Games have set differently every year.

    Charlie grabs Dean’s hand in a panic, and the man’s brotherly instincts cut in right before the walls surrounding the two turn clear. Angels get a clear view of Dean and Charlie, Charlie waving at them with smiles and Dean standing next to her intimidatingly, arms crossed and jaw clenched but still holding Charlie’s hand. The crowd cheers loudly and Dean scowls a bit, turning to go to his room. Charlie lets him go after the first few minutes and nods to him. He nods back before leaving, stuffing the journal into the inside of his jacket. The slam of Dean’s door is loud enough to cover the cheering crowds for a few seconds, but the screams act back up soon. Charlie does her best not to puke at the disgust that rolls through her as she sees the joy on all the faces watching someone who will surely die for their entertainment.


	4. Chapter 4

    Dean’s stylist is named Balthazar. His main stylist, he should say. There are three angels that shaved practically all the hair from Dean’s body that wasn’t on his head. His eyebrows had also been plucked, and the beard that keeps cold winds off of Dean’s had been shaved down to a rough stubble that shades his face pleasantly. The blonde angel that greets him in the back room, his stylist’s room, allows Dean to keep the towel Dean had tied around his waist to cover his goods. Oddly enough, Dean didn’t feel uncomfortable around the other angels, but he face heats up a bit at the thought of being bare around this one.

    “A human not god awful looking with a bright soul. This is actually something I haven’t seen before. Balthazar.” The angel offers his hand, and Dean shakes it firmly before letting go a few seconds after, crossing his arms.

    “Dean. And my what?” Dean asks, green eyes narrowing. He looks over Balthazar and the angel does the same to him.

    “Your soul. It’s very bright. It’s very nearly a grace, by the looks of it. I’m impressed, Dean. Seems like the humans have evolved quite a lot since I last visited District Twenty.” Balthazar comments, causing Dean to raise a brow.

    “Ya’ll don’t think that we can climb a  _tree_.” Dean says, slang slipping into his words as his temper spikes a bit.

    “To be fair, the last time most of us visited humans couldn’t, and we’ve never really seen humans last longer in the games for more than a few minutes. Not to forget the one time that a human  _did_  manage to survive the Cornucopia she died by falling from a tree.” Balthazar says, watching the way Dean’s jaw clenches with mild curiosity and interest.

    “She had a broken  _leg_.” Dean says, speaking to Balthazar like he’s a child. Balthazar’s brows furrow.

    “A what?” Dean lets out a long sigh, and Balthazar scowls.

    “We can’t heal ourselves. Why do you think we live so shortly unless becoming a victor and getting stuck with an angel mate? Or, god forbid, an  _archangel_  mate.” Dean says. “Then you get the powers, but at what cost? And you still have powers a little less than a normal angel’s. You’re like a frickin cupid on steroids.” Balthazar laughs a bit.

    “I’ve never thought about it that way, if I’m honest. But enough about that, turn for me. Let me see your angles. Your girlfriend has a soul quite similar to yours. However, hers is a very light shade of yellow while yours is somehow a dark yet light blue. I’m unsure as to how to explain the coloring to somebody with human color rods.” Balthazar says, making small talk as Dean slowly turns.

“Charlie isn’t my girlfriend. She’s my sister.”

“I didn’t trace any genes from the same family. Flex.”

    “What? And she isn’t blood related. More like she’s adopted family.”

    “I said flex. I need to see how much muscle you already have so I can talk to Uriel about what training you need.” Balthazar explains. “You humans are odd. Taking in family that isn’t yours? Animals, vampires, an-”

    “Werewolves are known for that. Yeah, I get it. Humans just barely survive on the shit we have down in District Twenty. We basically ran on instinct before Ellen became the mayor. She keeps everybody in check, and she manages it from behind a bar. I have a lot of respect for that woman.” Dean says, causing Balthazar to look up at him when he’s done checking over -  _out_  - Dean’s muscles. “And Uriel won’t help us. Dude hates humans. Said he doesn’t want to see us again, if you can read between the lines.”

    “Then you’ll need to convince him to help you two.” Balthazar says, causing Dean to snort as he adjusts his towel.

    “How do you suppose I go about that?” Balthazar shrugs.

    “Uriel is practically known for not liking to talk to lower beings. He doesn’t like being outsmarted by them even more. However, he doesn’t like his charges to fail too badly, if you’re hearing what I’m saying...” Balthazar trials off.

    “Hit him with his own ego. I kinda like that. I can do that. Charlie will catch on.” Dean says, talking more to himself than the angel taking his measurements. Balthazar looks at a human with a raised brow.

    “Are you sure that you two aren’t dating?” He questions, one side of his mouth tugging up at Dean’s annoyed look.

    “Pretty sure. We’re both gay as hell, so it’s not really a possibility.” Dean says, causing the angel to look confused.

    “Gay? What does being happy have to do with if the two of you are dating?” Balthazar asks, genuinely curious and a bit confused. Dean sighs heavily through his nose. Does he really need to explain sexual and romantic orientations to an  _angel_? Judging by Balthazar’s look, he does.

    “Not that gay. Gay as in the romantic and sexual orientation. Charlie is a lesbian, which means she’s only attracted to girls. I’m actually pansexual and romantic, which means I can be attracted to anybody no matter their gender. I just prefer men.” Dean says, shrugging a bit at the end.

    “What other orientations are there?” Balthazar asks, causing Dean to sigh a bit again before continuing. “And what do you mean no matter their gender? Don’t humans only have two?”

    “There’s some that are the ones most people are, and then there’s some with a smaller community of people with that orientation. There’s asexual and aromantic, which means you either don’t feel sexual or romantic feelings for most to all people. There’s bisexual, which is where somebody is attracted to boys and girls. The ones most people identify as are straight, which means you only like the opposite gender, and gay, which means you like people the same gender as you. There’s also demisexual and romantic, which means you only develop either or both of the feelings for people you have a connection to.

“Uhh, then there’s cis people, which identify with the gender their parts say they are. There’s also transgender people, they identify as the opposite gender as the one they were born as. There’s also bigender which is where somebody identifies equally as a boy and a girl. I think, but I’m not exactly sure? There’s also genderfluid people who identify as a guy some days and a girl others. There’s also, uh, I think they’re called agender people? They don’t identify as either of the genders.” Dean explains.

    “Are they shes or hes?” Balthazar asks, and Dean shakes his head.

    “They use they/their/them pronouns.” Dean says. Balthazar actually looks impressed as he looks at Dean.

    “There had always been a few large differences in some souls that others had the same difference to. We never really thought of what it meant. That may have to do with the genders thing. It would explain a lot. But enough with that. We need to plan your outfit style. Let’s go, start firing off options and I’ll tell you if they suck or not.” Balthazar says. They both sit down, because it’s obvious that this will take a while.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna put this in my Spn Imagines too

    Dean stands up straighter when Balthazar hits him in the back, and then the angel comes around to his front again. Dean scowls down at the angel who only winks at him. “This is weird as hell. And they keep moving without me telling them to.” Dean says, motioning to the wings behind him. One is made of nightmare colored leather stretching over thick bones. The other is fucking  _huge_  and it hurts Dean’s eyes to look at.

    Charlie comes over, also looking angelic. And also demonic. It seems like it was difficult for the stylists to make Charlie look demonic. One of her pale green eyes isn’t visible, and inky black covering one  of her eyes entirely. There’s also a pair of wings on Charlie, but her leather wing is thinner. The bones are traceable, and the stretched leather over it is a snowy white color. Of course, Charlie’s wide smile when she sees Dean almost completely demolishes her demonic half. Her other wing is large, but nowhere near as Dean’s, and it’s like pale yellow and silver mixed without actually  _combining_.

    “Your wing is hurting my eyes, Charlie.” Dean mutters, rubbing said eyes. One is an inky black like Charlie’s one eye, and the other is his normal meadow green. Somehow Balthazar managed to make the eye on the angelic side to look soft. Dean isn’t exactly sure how, because he’s been promising death with his eyes to anybody who so much as looked his way. Balthazar leads the two humans to their chariot. Two huge horses stand in front of the half black, half white chariot. The horse in front of the black part is the color of untouched snow, and the horse in front of the white part is the color of nightmares.

    “You can’t talk, dude. Jesus shit that wing is bright. And huge. Why is your wing so big?” Charlie asks. Balthazar smirks before responding, because Dean has no clue.

    “Because Dean is a bottom.” Balthazar says, causing Dean to choke on nothing and cause Charlie to bust out laughing.

    “ _What?! Dean!_ Oh my god, really?” Charlie cackles, gasping for breath as she stares at Dean. Dean gives Balthazar a mortified look. The angel winks at him, letting his void colored wings, that are smaller than Charlie’s, flash into existence for a few seconds. He then quickly starts positioning the two humans on their chariot. “Wait, wait, wait. Really? Like, seriously? You can tell if an angel is a top or a bottom by looking at their wings?” Charlie questions, entering an entirely new round of laughter after Balthazar nods.

    “Yes, seriously.” Balthazar says, “Small wings are for tops and large wings are for bottoms. I think it’s so bottoms can attract mates.”

    “Oh god, I never needed to know that you’re a top, Charlie.” Dean says, crossing his arms and leaning away from Charlie dramatically. Charlie rolls her eyes, snapping back a comment that causes Charlie to join her laughing fit.

    “I’ve forgotten how sarcastic humans are.” Balthazar says, moving the humans a bit more and making Dean cross his arms. Charlie shifts slightly, sticking one hip out a bit more as she locks herself in place. Balthazar just nods, shifting the two’s wings around. He doesn’t touch the angel wings, just motioning with a flash of his own wings as to how the two should hold their wings.

    “Shit.” Charlie says when the chariot starts moving, hand shooting out to grab Dean’s bicep.

    “Just do whatever looks natural, but stay in the placements I put you in.” Balthazar calls after them, “And don’t hesitate to make Dean look protective. Good luck!”

    “Dick.” Dean mutters, also locking his knees. However, he’s more sturdy than Charlie so he doesn’t really move that much where Charlie nearly stumbles. “What are these ridiculous outfits supposed to represent again?” He asks, motioning to Charlie’s toga and his ‘bad boy’ outfit consisting of what he normally wears with a few extra things. He’s in a leather jacket with ripped dark grey jeans. He also has on a blood colored sleeveless shirt that hugs his frame ridiculously tightly. There may as well be no shirt with how much the damn thing shows. He’s in the leather jacket that Kate had given him, and the Samulet rests against his solid chest, glittering with light.

    “Not sure, but both your eyes are black now. You look scary, dude. But the crown doesn’t really help- oh.” Charlie says, bright green eyes widening before they glow a pale yellow. No, not yellow. They’re the same color of her angel wing. The flower crown she’d been wearing slowly shifts into a full out crown made of ivory vines and opal roses.

    “They may be dicks, but they sure as hell know how to manipulate fabrics and shit. Damn.” Dean says, watching the starting tunnel approach slowly. Suddenly, the chariots that had stopped at the entrance started trotting out into the open. The horses drawing the human’s chariot speed up a bit to match the others, and Dean would’ve grabbed Charlie by the shoulder if she hadn’t already grabbed his bicep again.

    “Shit, man.” Charlie says, watching the light approach quickly now.

    “Don’t forget the positioning of your wings.” Dean says, but he breaks the rule of having his wings down soon after. Only a few feet after exiting the tunnel, all attention is on the humans. One demon and one angel with wings from both. Dean’s wings shoot up all the way, shifting slightly behind Charlie. He stops them just in time from closing around both him and his sister, gritting his teeth as he glares. He sees Charlie on the screen above them first, her eyes as blinding as her award winning smile. He’s next, his huge wings spread completely and his eyes icey against his pissed expression. God damn did Balthazar do a good job.

    The two humans next to each other are such a contrast that it sends the angels in an uproar as if they’re seeing the birth of the next Christ or something. Because instead of seeing the cowering beings that usually come to the games, they get an obviously manipulative pair of powerful looking beings. There’s determination and murder in Dean’s eyes, and Charlie’s glowing orbs are filled with false joy and observation. Dean lets out a low whistle, hand flying up to catch a white rose thrown at him and Charlie. He hands it to his sister, winking in the direction of whoever threw the rose. He raises a brow at the reaction before going back to an emotionless face.

    “Il est évanoui. Dean, du bon travail. Je suis un peu impressionné (He passed out. Dean, good work. I'm a little impressed).” Charlie says, causing the angels to go even more insane because these somehow intelligent humans can communicate in a language that they can’t speak.

    “Tu devrais essayer. Il est assez amusant , et ça va être amusant de se moquer d'eux quand nous serons de retour à la maison (You should try. It is pretty fun, and it will be fun to make fun of them when we get back home).” Dean replies, and, once again, angels freak out as Dean replies in a rough voice that’s almost too deep for a man who looks like he does. He rolls his eyes at the reaction, and he barely shifts as the chariot turns another corner. Charlie doesn’t either, because she’s got a crushing grip on the taller and larger man’s arm once again. Dean doesn’t even think about the crescent shaped marks she’s probably leaving in his bicep.

    “When  _you_  get home.” Charlie says, effectively making pain, anger, and numbness flash across Dean’s face. He doesn’t speak again until they stop in front of the archangels in the middle of the huge district.


	6. Chapter 6

    The archangels look at each of the tributes as they roll in, but two of them snap their attention to District Twenty’s tributes almost immediately. Black eyes glare straight ahead, and glowing grace eyes flicker down as soon as the archangels are looking at the owner. Gabriel nudges Lucifer, and the taller archangel nods, his attention also focused entirely on the human playing demon. The human actually seems to notice he’s being watched, even without looking up at the archangels staring at him. The huge wings protruding from his back move down a bit, but the man clenches his jaw before forcing the wings back into a neutral position. It’s actually quite an impressive feat, because even some angels are unable to manipulate their wings in a way like that. Lucifer leans towards the human a bit, and Gabriel does the same.

    Dean clenches his teeth, trying to ignore the heavy weight of somebody watching him. He should say people with power watching him. He’d been watched plenty back in District Twenty, but never by anybody important. And nobody back in District Twenty was truly more powerful than Dean Winchester. John had been the main man, but when the town found out about his abusive ways they abandoned him. Of course, that put Sam and Dean on the spot, because suddenly those cuts and bruises could be from something other than getting food. The man isn’t sure as to why his wings had gone down so quickly, but it was damned difficult to get them back up into a neutral position.

    “Dean? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas (What’s wrong)?” Charlie whispers, and two archangels lean forwards again because of course they’re listening to the conversation.

    “Rien. Tout va bien (Nothing. All is well).” Dean mumbles back, and Gabriel nudges Lucifer with a silent question.  _Can you understand them_? Lucifer nods back a confirmation before tuning back into the conversation. Michael stands up and starts up the speech that even the archangels are tired of hearing.

    “Bullshit . Que se passe-t-il (What’s going on)?” Charlie asks, and Lucifer translates just loud enough for the younger archangel to hear him.

    “Ils nous regardent. Moi. Deux d'entre eux au plus. Ne vous avisez pas vous regardez petite merde (They look at us. Me. Two of them at the most. Don’t you dare look you little shit).” Dean snaps, and Lucifer chuckles. Gabriel elbows the older archangel in the side until he translates what the human said. Even if he doesn’t survive, Dean Winchester will prove to be good entertainment in the Games.

    “Ça fait mal Dean. Hurt mon cœur (That hurt Dean. Hurt my heart).” Charlie replies, her smile almost blinding. These humans would make amazing angels, in Lucifer’s opinion. Their souls are very nearly graces. That hasn’t been seen in any of the games.

    “Tais-toi (Shut up).” Dean says, chuckling a bit until the weight of the archangel’s stares causes him to go blank faced again.

    “Vraiment? Ils ont pas cessé de chercher encore (Really? They haven’t stopped staring yet)?” Charlie questions, eyes glancing up over the angels. One seems to be looking at all the tributes with disinterest, but two of them are staring directly at Dean. Not the black haired one giving the speech, Michael, but the two with blonde hair. The pale pair of eyes doesn’t turn away from Dean, but the golden pair does. “He just winked at me.” Charlie says, shock causing her to switch back to English.

    “What?” Dean switches back to english too, his tone more rough and scratchy than it was when he was speaking French. Lucifer crosses his arms as he leans back a bit, eyes still focused entirely on the human male.

    “Gabriel? I think that’s his name. McSweets.” Charlie clarifies, and Gabriel snorts at the nickname, crossing his legs and kicking them up onto his mate’s lap. He pulls out a cherry flavored sucker, popping it into his mouth.

    “The nickname the humans gave you is fairly accurate.” Lucifer comments, and Gabriel shrugs with a small head tilt.

    “Yeah.” Gabriel says casually, twirling a pen around his fingers with a large amount of a useless skill. The two watch the chariots leave, and they  _do_  catch how Dean’s wings are trembling terribly. They also see them flash down to a submissive position before he forces them back into neutral position again. “So…” Gabriel pops the sucker out of his mouth.

    “You wanna follow them? I know that both of the others have followed around their fair share of non-angels. Hell, Michael almost always gets to the point of talking to somebody in each of the games.” Gabriel says, and Lucifer glances at him with a raised brow. Gabriel shrugs, saying, “He’s interesting. And hot. And he actually has a chance in the games, in my opinion. And if he wins we can get him.”

    “Alright.” Lucifer says slowly, not exactly sure what he’s getting himself into.

    “Sweet. Let’s go. I wanna meet the redhead too.” Gabriel grabs his mate’s hand before dragging him along, out of the view of the cameras.

    Dean is handed an overcoat as he gets off the chariot. He hears his name being called by Balthazar, and only a few seconds later there’s a loud snap and a bright flash. He glares at the angel who took a picture of him before heading over to Balthazar. “What?” He asks, tensing as he sees how nervous the angel is suddenly.

    “Some, uh, some people want to talk to you, Dean. And Charlie.” Balthazar says. A familiar feeling overwhelms Dean, and the man’s green eyes appear again from the murky ink that had filled his eyes for the last few hours.

    “Hey there, Dean-o!”

    “Oh shit.”


	7. Chapter 7

_(Kinda Short Chapter because it’s sorta just a filler chapter that shows you a few of the other characters)_

 

    Training. Dean ignores the hateful words or the amused looks coming from anybody not human. Usually the humans don’t even do anything, because why would previous ones? They knew nothing about non-humans, and they were very far behind in the strength and speed category. Charlie and Dean talk in low tones casually in French, making their way to the fighting block. Charlie crosses her arms and leans against the ropes surrounding the area, watching a vampire and a shapeshifter duke it out with minimal interest. She’s the first human to go past the ropes, and Dean just nods are her when she glances at him.

     _Make sure they know what you can do._  The look orders, and Charlie smirks a bit, putting up her fists in a defensive position. She loses, but it takes about half an hour for her to do so. She grunts in pain as she hits the ground roughly, and, surprisingly, the demon who knocked her on her ass offers her her hand. Charlie raises a brow before accepting said hand, getting pulled to her feet. The demon wipes her hand on her pants, but that isn’t very surprising. Helping humans can only go so far without something offensive happening,

    “Your turn.” Charlie says, speaking English for the first time in a few days. Dean raises a brow,

    “Really? I didn’t notice.” The man responds, climbing over the ropes and cracking his neck. He rolls his shoulders as a vampire climbs over the ropes. “Dean Winchester.” Dean introduces himself, holding out his hand. The vampire stares at it a few seconds before grabbing it and shaking his hand. That’s actually kinda surprising.

    “Benny Lafitte.” The vampire says. He backs up a few paces. The bell is rung, and Benny is suddenly on Dean. The man grunts before rolling backwards with the vampire. Down and dirty it is. The human twists and kicks, his feet landing solidly in Benny’s gut and sending him flying a few feet, Dean rolls to the side, and a fist lands solidly where his head had been.

    “That might’ve hurt.” Dean says with a sarcastic smile, rolling backwards again and landing on his feet. He charges at Benny, twisting just as he does and grabbing him in the middle. The two men hit the ground solidly, and Dean manages a few solid punches before he’s sent flying into the ropes. Benny practically appears in front of the hunter with a raised brow, a hand on his throat. He squeezes a bit, but Dean’s determined expression never changes. Benny looks a bit impressed.

    “Gonna surrender?” Benny asks, and Dean just smirks at him. Sure, Benny had felt the human’s legs moving around, but he never actually thought much about it. At least, he didn’t think about it until the legs squeezed and twisted. Benny lets out an angry growl before he’s flipped onto his back, Dean straddling his lower back as he pins and pulls his arms behind his back.

    “Gonna surrender?”Dean asks, unfazed by the growling vampire below him. Benny struggles for a good ten minutes before he eventually goes limp in defeat. “Gotta say it, buddy.” Dean says, pulling at the arm.

    “Fuck! Yes, I surrender!” Benny snaps, and he makes sure Dean isn’t in his way before he rolls over, rubbing his shoulder as he sits up. Dean offers him a hand, and Benny takes it. Dean doesn’t budge more than an inch as the vampire struggles a bit to get up, even as he puts almost all his weight on the him. This human might make a good partner.

    “Good job, man. Almost had me a few times.” Dean says before he hops over the ropes and walks over to Charlie. He has a slight limp, but he knows the injury will be gone before he wakes up tomorrow.

    “Hello, humans.” A man greets Charlie and Dean, the demon who beat the redhead trailing behind him a bit.

    “Yo.” Dean greets.

    “Hey. Ruby.” Charlie greets the two, nodding at Ruby. “You two don’t look like you came here to annoy us. What’s up?”

    “Was wondering if you two will consider a truce between humans and demons in this year’s Games.” The man says. “I’m Crowley.”

    “I’m Dean, this is Charlie. How do we know you two won’t just stab us in the back or poison us?” Dean asks, not once looking up from the journal he’s reading. Crowley raises a brow as he looks at the human.

    “It took Ruby almost half an hour to beat Charlie, and you took down a vampire in under…” Crowley glances at a clock, “fifteen minutes. I’d say you’re fast and strong enough to beat us back, and you don’t seem stupid enough to be poisoned.” Charlie glances at Dean, who she can see looking at her from the corner of his eye. She nods in a way only Dean will notice, and the man sighs before he closes his book.

    “Deal.” Dean says, holding out his hand.

    “There  _is_  a way to make the deal more concrete. It was used before the angels took over everything. And they made it so neither of you two go to hell afterwards.” Ruby suggests, looking directly at Charlie as she does. Charlie blushes a bit, glancing at Dean. The man is smirking, but he nods anyways. Charlie sighs heavily through her nose and leans in. Ruby smirks, and she deepens the kiss beyond what’s needed, because why the hell not?

    “Get a room, you two.” Dean jokes, and Ruby smirks as she pulls away. She winks at Charlie before she leaves with Crowley, and the redhead turns to Dean with somewhat wide eyes.

    “What the hell just happened?” She asks, sounding a bit breathless. Dean ends up kneeling because of how much laughing follows the woman’s words.


	8. Chapter 8

    "What are you gonna do to impress the archangels?" Charlie asks Dean over breakfast. The man shrugs, getting a confused look from Castiel and an annoyed look from Uriel. The darker angel turns to the human.

    "You plan on going in there without a clue as to what you'll be doing?" The angel scowls, glaring at Dean with dark eyes.

    "I'm not saying I have a plan, I'm just saying that half of them are gonna be staring at my ass, one seems to be a bit obsessed with me, and the other doesn't like me. Or humans. Or should I say anything not an angel in general?" Dean questions, his snapping turning cold as he glares right back at the angel with angry emerald eyes. The man then turns to his sister, raising a brow. "Why? What are you doing?" He asks, and Charlie shrugs a bit.

    "Shoot some things, bow and gun, make a hut, maybe. They're gonna give me a low score either way." Charlie says, taking a bite of thick oatmeal with chunks of cinnamon apples and sweet blueberries in it.

    “I wouldn’t think so. You two are the first humans to survive in the ring with someone other than the other human. If you show a shred of intelligence, then you’ll likely get at least a five. And you’re Dean’s sister, and Gabriel and Lucifer like him. It’s likely with that you’ll be getting a seven if you do something a bit impressive for a human.” Castiel says, and Charlie glances at him with a raised brow.

    “Is that so?” Charlie asks, and Castiel nods, taking a sip of an amber liquid that looks like a melted sun. “What do you suggest I do, then?” Castiel shrugs, taking a bite of something that hurts the humans to look at.

    “Generate a shapeshifter to brawl with, and then go show the archangels that you understand which things you can and cannot eat. It will show them you have good strength and good wisdom, for a human at least. And your personality is filled with positivity. In a sick way, that will excite the archangels, as they find joy in sucking the positivity out of a person while they’re in the Games.” Castiel says, and Dean grimaces, picking at his brownie waffles half-heartedly.

    “Is the food not to your liking?” Uriel asks, and Dean glances up at him with a raised brow.

    “It’s delicious. That’s the problem. Where I come from, some people would sell their houses for just one meal like this. It’s sickening, and it makes the food unappetizing. The only thing I can really eat is the soup, ‘cause I can pretend it’s something Sammy made if I close my eyes.” Dean says, and Castiel furrows his brows.

    “I don’t understand.” The angel states, and Dean narrows his eyes at him as Uriel turns to the blue eyed angel.

    “He has high morals, Castiel. And he misses the family he’ll likely never see again. It’s common in those placed in the games, but we don’t know much about it as we’re too powerful to be in the games fairly.” Uriel states, and Dean rolls his eyes.

    “You’re plenty powerful until somebody gets their hands on a damn blade. Then you gotta send in an archangel.” Dean grimaces, remembering the ashes of a three year old who’d found an angel blade somebody had accidentally dropped. Or maybe it wasn’t accidental. Maybe that little boy was killed to show others that the angels have no mercy, and that nobody will be spared.

    “Ah. I almost forgot about that incident in the Human District.” Uriel says, and even Castiel winces a bit.

    “You should hurry and dress yourselves. You’ll be getting called down in a few moments, and being late will dock three points.” Castiel states, and Dean shoves his food away from him as he shoves his chair out behind him, standing straight before he walks to his room swiftly. He grabs the clothes that are placed on his bed; dark jeans, a maroon flannel, a stylish leather jacket, and black combat boots with a pair of fingerless leather gloves to match. The man rolls his eyes before he puts the clothes on quickly.

    “I wasn’t aware this is a fashion show.” The blonde man says as he walks out of the room to see Charlie in a chocolate tank top, dark jeans, and the same fingerless gloves and boots Dean was given but a few sizes smaller.

    “Gotta look fabulous as you kill a bitch, apparently.” Charlie says, punching the air in front of her with one hand as she flips her hair with the other.

    “Stabulous.” Dean whispers as they make their way to the elevator, and Charlie grins. The ride down is quiet, and Dean sits next to Charlie at the end of their line, as their district is the last.

    “See you soon, Soldier.” Charlie says when she’s called, and Dean gives a half-hearted salute, his eyes a bit sad as he watches Charlie enter the room. Large metal doors shutter close behind her, and Dean sighs heavily through his nose, placing his head on his hands that are propped up on his knees.

 

***

 

    “So, what did you do?” Charlie asks Dean over dinner, and Dean glances over at her with a smirk.

    “Showed them weaknesses, punched a bitch out, shot a glass out of Lucifer’s hand, then flipped them off before leaving.” Dean states, and Uriel chokes on his drink. Charlie coughs as she starts to laugh, and Castiel looks amused. “Believe it or not, even though these pants make my ass look fantastic, nobody was staring. Or paying any attention, really. So I did basic shit while nobody watched, got pissed off, stopped Satan from getting turnt, and flipped archangels the bird before leaving.”

    “You’re gonna get such a low score.” Charlie cackles, and Dean shrugs, smiling a bit as he takes a sip of an amber alcoholic liquid. They never give the man enough to get drunk, and it’s quite annoying, but being hungover for something probably isn’t ‘beautiful’ or ‘fabulous’ or however the hell announcers describe the games. In fact, they use every word but truthful ones like ‘violent’ and ‘unfair’ and ‘brutal’ and ‘filled with murder’. That, or nobody actually cares enough that the people dying are sons and daughters and mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers.

    Dean sighs, leaning back on the couch as he watches scores appear on the screen. When Charlie’s name pops up with a seven under it, Uriel starts coughing again as Dean cheers and pats Charlie on the back. Uriel doesn’t even bother trying to stop choking when Dean’s name comes up, a shiny ‘10’ rotating under his name. 


	9. Chapter 9

    Dean stares at the clothes on his bed with narrow eyes, shifting to the left as he stares at the clothes. Black dress pants, a low cut black vest, a white dress shirt, and a bowtie. Dean sighs heavily, pulling the clothes on quickly. The man narrows his eyes at the weight on his back, shifting. It doesn’t shift with the vest or shirt, it feels much more like the weight is in his back. Dean slips into his boots, pausing and looking at Balthazar as the angel startles him by appearing next to him.

    “You need something?” Dean sks, and Balthazar rolls his eyes, grabbing Dean by his hair and yanking his head back.

    “Final bits for your outfit.” Balthazar explains, dripping an amber liquid into Dean’s eyes. The man cusses, recoiling as well as he can at the burning sensation the liquid brings as it hits his eyes.

    “ _Fuck!_  Balthazar, what the hell?” The man snaps, allowing the angel to tug his hair into an acceptable position. The man can feel something seep into his hair, and then it’s styled again. “You’re gonna make me look like a hot mess.” Dean growls, glaring at Balthazar when the angel slaps his hand away from his hair.

    “Damn straight I am. I’ve been given a masterpiece, and I’m going to abuse your attractiveness to the best of my ability. Now go and wait for Charlie by the elevator.” Balthazar orders. Dean rolls his eyes, grabbing a roll as he passes the table before doing what Balthazar ordered.

    “Sup, bitches?” Charlie greets Dean and Uriel. The angel narrows his eyes dangerously, and Dean rolls his again.

    “Yo. What did Balthazar put in  _your_  eyes?” Dean asks, noticing the ginger rubbing at said eyes.

    “I don’t really know. Something silver and stinging.” Charlie says, and Dean nods, entering the elevator.

    “Don’t forget to be yourself! But don’t be too rude!” Balthazar shouts, and Dean rolls his eyes as the doors close.

 

***

 

    Charlie is the first one to go. Her smile is blinding, and she sits down across from Anna. The angel with deep red hair smiles at the other, her eyes full with amusement. Dean can’t tell if it’s false or not. “Hello.” The angel greets, speaking a lot slower than she did with the other tributes. Annoyance flashes across Charlie’s face, and Dean smiles a bit as the angel looks a bit surprised.

    “Hi.” Charlie greets, her words a bit sharp as she leans back easily into the seat she’s been give.

    “How are you today?” Anna asks, speaking much faster than she was before. Charlie relaxes a bit.

    “Pretty good. It’s not everyday you get to see a crowd like this.” The woman says, flashing a grin at the crowd. Balthazar makes a motion, and the woman winks as her eyes turn black.

    “Oh!” Anna exclaims, moving back a bit in surprise. Charlie laughs, her smile bright but her expression much more deadly with the now nightmare colored eyes. Charlie leans forward a bit, resting her elbows on her knees.

    “Balthazar is a hell of a stylist, gotta say.” Charlie says, and Anna nods, smiling a bit as she gets back into the gist of things.

    “He truly is. Your wings are marvelous. They look almost real.” The angel says, and Charlie nods, stretching the snow colored leather wings out before they relax behind her back, a bit tense.

    “He really is. You should see Dean. That boy is gonna make some mouths drop. And my hair looks amazing.” Charlie says, and Anna nods, shuffling through some notes.

    “So, and eight? That’s uncommon even among demons. I’m impressed.” Anna says, and Charlie shrugs, looking down in false shyness.

    “Thank you, it was hard.” The woman says, obviously bullshitting as she’d been done in about ten minutes.

    “I’m sure.” Anna says, smiling. “What do you plan on doing when you get back to your district?”

    “I’m not going back.” Charlie says, and it’s immediately quite. Anna furrows her brows, leaning forward.

    “Don’t say that. You obviously have the skills to survive the Games. Only two others scored above you, and one of them is your friend.” Charlie shakes her head.

    “You’ve got it wrong. I have no doubt in what I can do, but Dean has people he needs to get back for. I won’t allow two little boys to lose their brother. It isn’t right. If anything, I’ll probably save Dean or wander off and find a tall tree.” Charlie says, and it’s quite. Dean swallows a lump in his throat, turning away from the cameras aimed at him as his eyes start to water.

    “That’s… Unfortunate. I’m afraid our time is up, Charlie. May the odds be ever in your favor.” Anna says, and Dean clenches his jaw, standing as the bell rings. Balthazar fixes his hair before he’s allowed onto the stage, and he sits across from Anna silently, staring after Charlie until the bell rings. Then his eyes snap to Anna, much more cold and his frame much more tense. “Dean.” Anna greets.

    “Anna.” The man replies, Anna doesn’t bother looking at her notes.

    “A ten. It’s the first time in years. How’d you do it?” Anna asks, basically disregarding all regulations and rules as she leans forward.

    “I don’t think I’m allowed to say exactly what happened…” Dean glances out into the crowd, seeing the archangels nod. Lucifer looks amused. “Let’s just say, it probably isn’t something that they’ve seen before.” Lucifer and Gabriel nod when the cameras turn to face them.

    “Interesting.” Anna says, and Dean tenses up as more attention is brought to him. “You have a brother. One you obviously care for very,  _very_ much. Why don’t you tell us about him?” Anna offers, and Dean sighs a bit deeply. Something he can talk about that won’t lead him to insulting the angels.

    “Sammy. His name is Sam, and he’s the smartest damned kid I’ve ever known. He’s got a garden going in our shitty dirt back in District Twenty, and  _everybody_  cares for him. I’m just glad that when I come back I know he’ll still be the same as when I left.” Dean says, and Anna nods.

    “You said that nothing better happen to him. What did you mean by that?” Anna asks, talking about when Dean was saying his goodbyes. Dean tenses, fire blazing behind his eyes. Light illuminates the man, and he knows that not only are there two grace wings spread and up high on his back, that his eyes are burning the same color.

    “If anything happens to him, I’ll deal with the person accordingly.” Dean says instead of specifying. Anna is distracted by his wings, her eyes drawn to them like the rest of the angels. She nods, before she shakes herself out of her daze.

    “Well, uh, yes. We’re sure you will, but sadly, our time is up. May the odds be ever in your favor, Dean Winchester.” Dean nods, shaking Anna’s hand and then stalking off the stage to go calm down by repeatedly punching something.


End file.
